


No Matter Your Wreckage

by snowyreid (foggynelson)



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-12 08:15:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5659189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggynelson/pseuds/snowyreid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The dog you love the most at the shelter where you work is getting adopted by an eccentric FBI agent. What will you do to keep her by your side? And how will you and her new owner get along?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "No matter your wreckage. There will be someone to find you beautiful, despite the cruddy metal. Your ruin is not to be hidden behind paint and canvas. Let them see the cracks.”  
> ― Sarah Kay, [Ghost Ship](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YkwRHCD_-2A)

The day is dragging on slowly. The week after Christmas always does. The weeks leading up are busy, people purchasing dogs and cats as gifts for their respective holidays. Come the new year, enough time will have passed that some of these people will be coming back to return their newly acquired pets, realizing it’s going to be more work than they had bargained for. That’s the worst time of the year, honestly. You can tell the animals don’t totally understand what is going on, only that they are no longer with the people they’ve grown attached to the past days and instead are here again.

It’s a feeling you can relate to (growing attached only to have the attachment severed) which is probably what had brought you to this job in the first place. You’re sure if you had parents they would berate you for working at an animal shelter instead of continuing your education and going to veterinary school. And that had been the plan and on some level it still is. But student loans are a bitch and living in the DC area is expensive enough as it is.

Plus, this isn’t a bad job. Granted, it is a hard job emotionally. You can’t help but connect with the animals and every time one leaves, for a moment it feels like your heart is leaving too. It comes back, sometimes a minute later, but at times (especially when the animals have to be put down) it can be gone for days.

The job has its positive side, though. You’ve never felt as much love as you do here. Mostly from the animals, but the other workers as well.

Hayden is young but sweet, attending a community college and working here part time. The animals love her, the dogs especially - even the ones that are more reserved. There’s a light in Hayden that’s hard not to see and love. Shyun is the only full time worker outside of you and the owner. You’ve known him since you were young. At work he’s very restrained and quiet. He doesn’t chat much and will give you these looks when you and Hayden are talking instead of working. Outside of work, though, he’s full of laughter, always joking about something, a smile never leaving his face.

And there’s the owner, Mica. Despite him only being ten years older than you, he’s more of a father than any of your foster parents ever were. He’s more caring than just about anyone you’ve ever known (which, granted, isn’t saying much, but that doesn’t diminish his kindness). He actually listens to what you have to say. He doesn’t interrupt when you’re ranting about a particularly rude customer or when you’re breaking down because _what am I ever going to do with my life?_ He doesn’t judge you. He doesn’t totally understand you, of course. How could he? His family was always loving and supportive, him living the life he’s always wanted. 

Mica and his husband, West, generally take the week after Christmas off until the new year. His husband works for some government agency (Mica never explicitly saying which one (which you think is just him trying to make his husband out to be a bigger deal than he actually is)). They generally leave the country, this time spending the week in Australia. You’re jealous, naturally, having never left the country. But Mica always brings back a small gift for you as well as tons of chocolate for the staff. 

And with this week being as slow as it is, you’re the only one in now. There’s a bell at front desk in case anyone comes in while you’re in the back with the animals. You spend most of your time there. As you head to the back, you notice a stack of paperwork sitting at the front desk, beckoning you. You know you need to do it - Mica will be upset if you don’t get it done. You glance behind you, the line of dogs pulling you away from the papers. 

There’s one dog you’ve grown so attached to that you could spend all day with her, a small Portuguese Water dog named Tara. She’s smart - smarter than you, you bet. She’s not the best looking dog, though, which is probably why she hasn’t be adopted yet. She’s so friendly, though, that you’re sure someone will take her soon. (You often contemplate about taking her yourself, but when you started the job you told yourself you wouldn’t adopt any animals. (You knew once you adopted one, it’d be hard for you to stop until your apartment was wall to wall cats and dogs.))

You walk to the back where Tara is. You sit down on the floor, Tara's walking over to place her head on your lap; you smile as you pet her coat. Each time you glance up, you notice the stack of papers sitting at the front desk. You groan looking at it. You catch a glance of the clock on the wall, noticing it’s almost time to feed the dogs as well. After I feed them, I’ll do paperwork, you tell yourself. For right here, right now is so peaceful, despite the noise the other dogs are making. Everything feels good and safe and _right_ , which is a feeling you’ve not felt much before. It’s times like this where you can’t imagine ever leaving here.

You hear the bell ring three times before you register what the noise is. “Shit,” you mumble, pulling yourself up, giving Tara one last pat on her head. “One moment,” you call out secretly hoping whoever it is already gave up and has left. Instead you hear a voice call back, “No problem.” You sigh.

You reach the front desk, the words, “How can I help you?” out of your lips before you look up to see who it is. You place a smile on your face as you look up. _Huh_ , you think as you look over the man in front of you. It’s pretty rare that you get singular males in here. They’re normally either with a child or with a significant other. He’s smiling too, you notice. It’s a nice smile, small and sweet. 

“Is Mica here?” he questions.

“No, sorry. He’s on vacation until the new year. Is there something I can help you with?” At this point, you’re staring intently at him and you’re sure it’s noticeable. You’re just… curious. You can only recall maybe one other time that someone has stopped in and asked for Mica by name. Lots of people have asked for the owner, but Mica isn’t exactly a high profile person.

Your first thought, despite it’s high unlikelihood, is that Mica is cheating on his husband with the man in front of you. He’s younger than Mica; you’re not sure if he’s your age or younger than you as well. He’s tall and lean and his hair is messy atop his head. Definitely different than who you’d imagine Mica cheating on West with. Not that it was something you thought about often. But there are times when it gets so slow that your mind wanders, creating over the top soap operas for the people in your life. 

“Um, maybe you could,” he answers pulling you out of your thoughts. You shake your head slightly, telling yourself to stop staring and just. Relax. Be normal. If it’s something you can help with it’s probably not to cheat on Mica’s husband. “I had called a few weeks back about a dog,” he continued. “I was supposed to stop by a week ago but ended up needing to leave town. I just got back last night.”

“Well, you’re welcome to look at the dogs we have?” you offer, unsure of what to say. Mica hadn’t said anything about this to you. He probably assumed the guy wasn’t coming - or simply forgot to mention something before he left.

“It was a specific dog. Is there any way you could contact him?”

“No, sorry. He’s in Australia which means it’s…” you trail off, trying to remember the exact time difference between the two of you.

“3:27 am, assuming he’s in Sydney. If he’s elsewhere, the time would range between midnight 12:27am and the mentioned 3:27,” the man replies. 

“Right,” you respond. Who knows this much about time zones in Australia? You can’t think of any reason why someone who would know this much outside of maybe living there before? Having family in the area? But the man lacks any sort of accent so you’d be surprised.

It’s silent and you’re unsure of what to say. You want to be able to help him, really, but you have no idea what specific dog he could be talking about. And honestly, you could probably ask a bunch of questions and _maybe_ figure out which dog but you’re not in the mood. So instead you offer, “I could send him an email about it? He probably forgot to let me know before he headed out. He’s really good at replying to his emails so I’m sure I’ll hear back from him come tomorrow. If that’s okay?”

“That would be great,” he responds, smiling, wider than he had been before. 

“Do you have a number I could contact you at? That way I can let you know when he gets back to me and what he says? Just in case and all. I’d hate to have you drive out here for no reason tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah.” He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. He pulls a card out and then asks, “Do you have a pen? Sorry, I left my bag in the car.”

“Yeah, of course,” you reply, your eyes scanning the countertop. There should be one around here - more than one, really. Yet it takes ages for you to find one that had halfway slid under the register. “Sorry,” you say, handing him the pen.

He leans down on the counter and writes a number on the back of his card. “If I don’t answer my cell, you’re welcome to call my office number.”

“Wonderful, thank you,” you reply, taking the card from his hand. You hold it in your hand, not wanting to look at it while he’s in the room. You’re so curious as to what his name is and where he works. You’ve thought up some different possibilities and on the off chance you’re right, you want to be able to celebrate your skills without someone looking on.

He lingers, though, his eyes looking behind you. “Is there something else I could help you with?”

“I…” he starts and pauses. “Would it be possible for me to pet the dogs?” His voice is small and innocent, as if he’s asking the world from you. You smile.

“Absolutely! They would love that. It’s mostly been me since Mica left so I’m sure someone new would make them so happy.” You lead him to the back where the dogs are. And most are excited, jumping, barking at the new presence. A few seem to barely notice, but for them that’s normal. Tara’s in the furthest back, barking and jumping louder and higher than anyone else. You smile as you make your way down to her. 

“You can just let yourself in and pet whomever you want. I would just watch out for Chewy, the small black dachshund. He bites and it’s surprisingly painful. He only bites you if he likes you, though, so the fact that I have a few scars that still haven’t gone away is kind of a compliment I suppose.”

The man walks slowly, stopping and looking at all the dogs. You walk ahead, reaching Tara and crouching down to her level. You pet her, scratching behind her ears and she beams. You remember the time and your need to feed the dogs. “Be right back,” you say to Tara and then turn towards the man. 

He’s sitting next to Apollo, petting her, the biggest smile on his face. You can’t help but smile as you watch him. It’s sweet. You love this part of the job, watching people fall in love with the animals. It’s the most true love there is, you think.

You walk over to him and reaching him, say, “Hey um, I need to feed them now. You’re welcome to keep doing what you’re doing or whatever; I’ll just be in the back for a few minutes getting it all in order.”

“Do you need any help?” he asks, starting to stand up. You quickly shake your head. 

“I’m good. I can do my job pretty well.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. Of course you can.” You laugh. 

“It’ll take more than that to offend me,” you reply as you walk away. You think you hear a small laugh behind you but it could just be a dog barking. You grin anyway. 

It doesn’t take long to get the food taken care of. When you first started working, it would take ages. There were so many dogs and divvying it all up and bringing it out was hard. And on top of that, remembering which pets had special dietary needs. That was the hardest part and for weeks, you’d have to triple check with Mica to make sure you were feeding everyone the right food. 

You’d given Tara hers first (which was slightly favoritism but also because she was closest) and by the time you are done, she’s eaten all of hers. She stares at you as you walk towards her, quietly begging for more food. She always does this and you’re pretty good at not giving into her but sometimes you can’t help it. 

You lean down and pet the top of her head. “You want a treat, don’t you?” The word treat causes her to jump slightly. You laugh. “Fine, fine. I’m not giving you one tomorrow, though. We have three days left before the new shipment comes in and I keep giving you more than everyone else and we’re gonna run out!” You stand up and start to walk towards the back room. 

On your way, you turn and look at the man. He hasn’t said anything to you after offering to help. You heard him a laugh a couple times while he was playing with Daisy. He’s now sitting on his knees, rubbing Theo’s belly, whose legs are kicking about as he makes small, happy sounds. You turn and smile as you walk to the back.

While there, you decide to make yourself a cup of coffee. It’d been a few hours since your last one. Plus, it’s also your lunch time - or it would have been had you been there alone. You mix in some cream and sugar and before taking a sip, call out, “Hey did you want a cup of coffee?” 

Cup in hand, you walk out of the room as he replies, “Me?”

“No, I was talking to Tara here. Obviously I’m trying to poison all the dogs here.” 

“Sorry, I just wasn’t sure if there was anyone else here.” He pauses, standing up. “But yeah, a cup of coffee would be great. I did not sleep well last night.”

“Oh what kind of crazy stuff were you getting into?” You grin, him reaching you a second later. You motion towards the back of the room where the coffee maker is.

“Paperwork,” he responds.

“Wow you sure are living the high life!” You smile and he chuckles. You watch him as he makes his coffee. You’re always curious as to how someone takes their coffee. No judgement as to how someone likes it, but it’s such an interesting thing to know about someone. He adds in more sugar than you and some cream. 

He puts the cup to his lips, blowing on it as he walks towards you. “Thanks for this,” he says. “The coffee, I mean. And for letting me play with the dogs. I really needed it.”

“Of course. There’s no day that can’t get better through petting a dog.”

You drink in silence (well, in as much silence as there ever is). You both stare out at the room, looking at every dog. The sight makes you smile and you’re happy to see it makes him smile as well. 

“I probably should head out,” he replies a few minutes later. He hands his mug to you. “Thank you again.” You set his finished glass down next to your half full one. 

“No problem at all. It was nice to have the company.” You walk with him up to the front. You try to think of something cool to say, something witty and funny and cute and memorable. But nothing comes so instead, as you reach the front door, you say, “I’ll go email Mica now and get back to you as soon as he gets back to me.”

“Great, I look forward to hearing from you.” He smiles down at you before turning his head and walking out. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. It’s nothing, you tell yourself. Sure he has the most beautiful smile you have ever seen but who cares about that anyway?

You open your eyes, shake your head, and walk to the back again. You still haven’t given Tara her treat so you grab that from the back. Normally you have her listen to and follow some commands but you don’t feel up to it right now. Instead, you walk up next to her, lean against the wall and slide down.

Tara rests her head on your lap. You’re not sure if she can tell that you’re low-key in distress or if she can just smell the treat that you’re holding. Either way, it’s nice to have her there. You open your hand Tara quickly grabs the food from it, making you smile, your hand now sticky and wet.

You sit for a few minutes before you remember you still haven’t looked at the man’s business card. You wipe your wet hand on your jeans and pull the card out of your pocket. Before looking at it, you try and finalize your guess of where he works. You think over what you know of him. He was out of town, most likely for work as it was an unexpected trip. He had to stay late doing paperwork. He came dressed in a purple button up top, tie, and a dark cardigan paired with black slacks. He puts too much sugar in his coffee. He’s relatively young.

Huh. You can’t see him working in congress or in the white house (not with a shirt that purple). Outside of that… you can’t place it. He’s intelligent, you think. But he also wasn’t working at eleven thirty on a Tuesday morning. You shake your head. You’re over analyzing it, you’re sure. You try and recall what your first thoughts were upon seeing him. But those don’t fit either - if he worked at some new tech company he wouldn’t be wearing a tie. Those guys never dress that nice.

You turn to Tara and say, “You won’t judge me if I give up, will you?” She looks up at you, her eyes as bright as always. “Of course you won’t.” You pet the top of her head with your free hand. You flip the card around in your hand and upon seeing it start to laugh.

There is literally no way you would have guessed FBI. Outside of his intelligence, there wasn’t anything that signaled it. He was so thin you can’t imagine anyone having a hard time breaking him in half. And you’ve never met an FBI agent in person before, but did they normally wear purple? They never did on TV; that you’re sure of.

With all your surprise and laughter, you hadn’t even bothered to look at the name. Spencer Reid. It’s nice, you think. Simple, nice, sweet. Definitely not terrible. Yeah, definitely not.


	2. Chapter 2

Mica doesn’t get back to you for two days. On Thursday, still having not heard from Mica, you called Spencer. He answered, a “Hello?” questioned at you. You assumed it was him not recognizing your number.

“Hey,” you said and then gave him your name. He’s silent for a second and you remember you had never given him your name before. Right. “From the animal shelter,” you add on.

“Of course, sorry.”

“Yeah, no problem. I just wanted to let you know that Mica hasn’t emailed me back yet. He probably will by tomorrow, though.” You kind of doubt he will email you back by tomorrow, but you didn’t know what else to say to him.

“That’s all right. Been kind of a busy day here anyway.”

“I’m sure it is. Caught any bad guys today?”

“I can’t really discuss stuff like that,” he replies.

“Right, of course. Sorry for asking.” It’s quiet after this and you’re not sure what to say. There’s not much left to say, really. You said all you needed to him but at the same time, you don’t want to hang up on him. His voice is soothing and warm and you’ve only had two people come in all day and while you love all the dogs and cats dearly, it’s nice to have some kind of human companionship.

“I guess just call me when you hear back from him.”

“Absolutely. Will do. Talk to you then.”

“Bye.” You stay on the line until he ends the call. You sigh as you place your phone down on the counter. 

And now it’s Friday, the first day of the new year. Things are still slow. You expect things will pick up come Monday. The second thing you did once you came into work (after checking on all the animals, making sure everyone was all right) was to check your email, hoping Mica has managed to get back to you by now.

He has. You open it up and find that the email is so long that gmail cuts it off and asks you to click to read the whole message. Most of it is updates on him and West. He describes everything that’s been going on with them, everything they’ve done - including details of every single meal they’ve had along with ratings of each one. 

Finally, you read the part where he talks about Spencer. It’s a mess of a ramble, first with an apology for not leaving any information on the matter, followed quickly by excuses for having not done so. Then he covers the situation and what they had talked about. It’s not too long, but there is more information than you expected. 

Mica then continues by saying, “All that is basically why I thought Tara would be a good fit for him.” He finishes off with a handful of apologies over you losing Tara, saying he understands how much she matters to you.

There are sounds around you but you don’t hear any of them for the following moments. Are you breathing? You can’t say for sure. You’d known this was gonna happen. Knew it from the first day Tara arrived here three months ago. You just… honestly hadn’t imagined it would hurt this much.

You force yourself to breathe, counting in for a count of four, holding another four, and then breathing out a last four. You continue this for a few minutes. You feel ridiculous. She’s just a dog, you tell yourself but immediately feel terrible for saying that. Because she’s not. She’s become your family, given you a sense of home. You regret never adopting her yourself before.

You could always just not call Spencer… No harm no foul type of thing. Of course, it is still a foul. And he deserves more. Or at least from what you know of him and his situation, it seems that he does. You debate it for awhile, though. Because while yes, he does deserve more - so do you. 

And yet, despite your internal conflict, a half hour later you call Spencer. He doesn’t answer his cell or the work number he gave you. You try his cell one last time and when he doesn’t answer, you leave him a message. You identify yourself and let him know that you heard back from Mica. “Call me back when you can and I can give you more details. Or Mica will be back on Tuesday if that’s better for you. Thanks. Bye.”

Hanging up, you make your way to the front door. It’s not time for your lunch break - you’ve barely been in an hour - but you need the break. You lock the door, flipping the open sign around. Most likely no one would be coming by now anyway so you don’t feel too guilty. 

You find yourself curled up on the floor next to Tara, her head on your lap. You pet her, her fur soft, warm. You’re grateful for this connection. You’re grateful to her. You stay like this for awhile. You’re not sure how long has passed, but soon your back is aching and you pull yourself off the floor.

Once again, the day drags on slowly. Your mind is only half present throughout the day. You’re not totally sure where the other half is. Sometimes you notice it’s wandering, finding it in past memories, thoughts of things you don’t enjoy. It drifts in and out, floating from one thing to another. You use the other half of your brain - the half that you have a decent level of control over - to finally finish the paperwork that’s piled up on you over the past week and a half.

Throughout the day, you have a few people stop in wanting to look at the animals you have available. No one has wanted to adopt. Two of them said they would come back another day when they were sure. You’ve gotten pretty good at telling who actually means it when they say they’ll be back. The first pair, a mother and her probably eight year old daughter, most likely will come back. The other pair, a mother and her teenage son, more likely won’t. She was too annoyed by the barking, grimacing each time one of the dogs was exceptionally loud.

Shyun stops by close to five. He’s in charge of stopping in over the weekend and checking on everything. You hadn’t seen him for a few days and seeing his smile warms you up. “How're you doing?” Shyun asks a few minutes after arriving. He walks up to you, standing close. “You seem sad.”

You laugh, trying to brush of Shyun’s concerns. “No way!” you reply, smiling. “It’s been a long week. And I’ve missed seeing you and Hayden. Even Mica, too.”

Shyun stares at you, eyes locked on yours. His are so dark but they sparkle, shining. “If you say so. I’m here if you need to talk or anything.”

“And you know I’ll take you up on that offer if I need. You don’t work Tuesday, do you? I think with Mica and Hayden back we both get the day off. We should go out Monday night, get hella drunk, and I can tell you all my problems.”

“That sounds great. It’s been too long since we really hung out.”

“I know. I miss you.” You reach out, placing your hand atop Shyun’s. He looks up and you smile down at him. 

Shyun smiles and then laughs. “You literally see me at least every other day.”

“Fine I take it back then. I don’t miss you and I don’t care about you at all!”

“Good!” he replies with a laugh. “I’m gonna check that everything is good in the back and then if you want, I can give you a ride home so you’re not stuck on the metro.”

“That would be fantastic. I have at least three horror stories from this past week.”

“I’m not even surprised,” Shyun says as starts his walk to the back room. “You have the worst luck when it comes to public transportation. You really should buy a car.”

“Yeah, okay. Tell Mica to give me a raise so I can afford it,” you reply, following Shyun to the back. You smile down at the dogs as you walk past, waving down at them. 

You watch as Shyun checks the supplies. There should be enough of everything to last the weekend - you’d checked just this morning. But Shyun has to check himself; it’s just something he does. You were used to it. You knew it was an anxiety thing, his worry and fear always high until he he was able to check (often double or triple check) that everything was okay.

“Everything okay?” you question.

“We’re out of treats.”

“Oh. How could that have happened…” Your eyes dart over at Tara, looking happy and bright as she looks at you. 

“We should be fine, though. Shipment should be in tomorrow. So yeah, we’ll be okay.”

“Of course. Everything’s gonna be fine,” you remind him, reaching out and patting his shoulder. 

“I’m gonna make a coffee and then we can head out, all right?” Shyun responds with a small smile, placing his hand atop yours.

“Sounds good. Let me check that everything is set for the night,” you answer, turning and facing the front. Your eyes land on Spencer standing at the front counter, his hand hovering right above the bell. He notices you and smiles as you approach him.

“Hey,” you say. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

“Yeah, sorry, I was gonna call but I thought it’d be nice to just stop by. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course,” you say, despite the fact that the clock has officially changed to 5:00 and you had been looking forward to leaving. 

Spencer opens his mouth and starts to say something when Shyun calls, “You ready to go?” 

“Um,” you reply, unsure of how to answer. Shyun walks to the front and is next to you seconds later, handing you a cup of coffee. 

“Oh sorry,” Shyun says. “I didn’t realize there was anyone here. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” both you and Spencer reply. You smile, looking down. You look over at Shyun and explain, “Spencer’s been talking to Mica about getting a dog, and then, of course, Mica left without telling me anything about it. So Spencer was waiting for me to hear back from Mica, which I finally have. Hence him being here.”

“Nice,” Shyun says, nodding. “You cool to stay? I’d offer to stick around, too, but I’m meeting Kona for dinner and you know how he is about people being late.”

“He’s such an ass when someone's late, oh my god. So yeah, don’t worry. I’ll just catch the metro no problem. Be sure to say hi to Kona for me, though, it’s been so long. He must have just gotten back from visiting his family, right?”

“Yep. And I made sure he brought me back some of those poi glazed donuts.”

“Poi glazed donuts?” you say, during which you notice Spencer mouthing the words next to you. “You have to bring me one, okay. Kona owes me. I don’t know why, but he does.”

Shyun laughs. “Sure thing. I did ask him to bring, like, ten dozen. Which means he probably brought at least a dozen so I should be able to spare one for you.” He smiles and then turns to Spencer and says, “Sorry for taking up your time and everything. I’m normally much more professional than this.”

“He really is,” you comment. 

“It’s okay,” Spencer replies. “These poi glazed donuts sound very important.”

“They are,” both you and Shyun say in unision. You grin looking over at Shyun. 

“I’ll see you on Monday,” Shyun says, grabbing his bag off the counter. “And it was nice to meet you, Spencer,” he nods at the other man. 

“See you,” you call as Shyun steps outside. “Sorry again about that,” you say, turning towards Spencer. “Unlike Shyun, I’m not normally that professional, but I still feel bad about it. I hope you weren’t in a big rush or anything.”

“It’s fine, really,” Spencer replies. “Despite it being Friday, I don’t have plans. Well, one of my coworkers invited me to go out for drinks, but I wasn’t really in the mood.”

“Yeah, I get you. Some people I knew from college went out last night, just jumping from club to club, which normally I would love to do, but instead I stayed in with my roommate and we drank champagne as we watched our favourite movies. Did you do anything to celebrate the new year?” you question, hoping it’s not too personal of a question. 

“Yeah, my coworkers and I went out together and had dinner. One of them, Rossi, has this great house and is a wonderful cook so we often do things over there.”

“That sounds like it was a ton of fun. You seem to be really close to your coworkers; that must be really nice.”

“I could say the same to you,” he comments.

“True. They’re basically my family.”

“Mine too, actually.” His voice is small and you remember something you had read in Mica’s email, something about his parents but you can’t recall what it was exactly. You definitely don’t want to ask Spencer about it, so instead you just nod.

It’s silent for a moment before you say, “Right, yes, anyway, let’s talk dogs. Or a specific dog. Ya know. The reason why you’re here,” the words spilling out in fast succession. You flash a smile and before Spencer can say anything, you continue going, “So I got Mica’s email back. Which you already knew. I don’t know why I’m mentioning that but. He filled me in on what you had talked about and Tara is such a good dog. She will be such a good fit for you and you’ll totally love her she’s basically my best friend so yeah I mean, she’s the best.”

Spencer stares at you, his head tilted slightly. “You okay?”

“Of course I am!” you reply, your voice higher pitched than normal. “Let’s go see your new dog!” 

You walk fast to the back where Tara is. She’s bouncing as you walk over and the closer you get, the less agitated you are. There’s more worry that creeps over, fear, but it buzzes in the back of your head, a smile making it’s way across your face as you lean down to greet Tara.

Her fur is soft as you start petting her. She looks so happy when you next to her. You almost turn to Spencer and say, “This has all been one big misunderstanding there are no dogs here these are all my pets goodbye.” You don’t. Instead, you continue to pet Tara for longer than you should, ignoring Spencer’s presence behind you. You feel your chest tighten before you turn to him and say (for real this time), “This is Tara.”

You don’t let go of her and continue to pet her. You motion for Spencer to join you and you hope he gets the idea without you having to say anything. It takes him a second, but eventually he understands that your weird head nod means “come join me on the floor.”

He sits down next to you, his body close. He reaches out and joins you in petting Tara. She’s small, and yours and Spencer’s hands hit each other’s a few times. This is nice, you think. You tell yourself it’s nice being here with Tara. It’s nice petting her, being close while you still can. But there’s another part of you, one you are trying to quiet, that’s telling you it’s nice with Spencer here with you.

You’re sure there are probably things you should be saying, explaining more to Spencer, talking about how wonderful Tara is. The words don’t come. Spencer doesn’t seem to mind, though. He’s smiling brightly. You notice how well Tara is responding to him - not that she normally has any issues with anyone, but you can already see a bond forming between the two. It warms your heart. Breaks it slightly, but warms it still. 

“So Mica was telling me Tara was a therapy dog?” Spencer says. 

You look up at him and nod. “Yeah, we got her, wow, maybe three months ago. Her last owner, um, passed away and didn’t have any family to take care of her. She’s really great. She can really sense when you’re down, honestly. She’s so caring and loving and she’s so much fun and honestly just the best dog in the world.”

“Did you know the use of therapy dogs is attributed to Elaine Smith, a registered nurse, who noticed how his patients would respond when visited by a chaplain and his Golden Retriever?” Spencer responds, smiling.

“I didn’t know that,” you reply. It had been an odd place to throw in a random fact, but Spencer looks so happy sharing the information with you that you can’t help but smile as well. “I don’t know too much about therapy dogs,” you continue. “One of my foster brothers had a seeing eye dog.”

“The term ‘seeing eye dog’ is generally used, but it actually only refers to dogs trained by a specific organization, not all guide dogs.”

You look at him, unsure of what to say. You settle on, “You know everything, don’t you?” and hope your tone is softer than the words may be.

“Sorry,” Spencer replies. “I read a lot. And I tend to default to sharing facts when I’m not sure what else to say.”

“It’s okay. It’s really cool, actually. I wish I had facts that I could default to when I didn’t know what to say. Instead I normally say nothing, which doesn't work out as well.”

“Well normally people just give me weird looks before ignoring what I said. I’m not sure if that’s much better.”

“Really? Huh. That’s odd,” you reply. “It must come in handy, though. At work, at least. Being able to know and recall as much as you can.”

“That’s true. It can help a lot with cases. I just feel that my timing's always off.”

“The right thing, but not always the right time or right place. I can understand that.” You pause when your hand brushes up against Spencer’s and lingers there longer than is needed. You pull your hand away after a few seconds and stand up.

“I need to check on a few things, so I’ll leave you and Tara to bond.” You nod at Spencer before walking off to the front. There’s not much for you to check on at this point. You walk over the other room that houses the few cats you have. It’s much quieter here. You open one of the cages and pull out a fat bombay cat. He purrs as you hold him. He’s one of the few cats that doesn’t run from your touch. 

You pet him for a few minutes before placing him back inside. You open the cage of every cat and make sure they’re okay. Finished, you walk back to the front and notice it’s almost six. You don’t mind staying late, not normally, but you’re drained from the day and you can’t wait to get home and binge your favourite TV show and eat far too many sweets.

Turning around, your eyes land on Spencer. He seems so happy there with Tara, a wide smile on his face. She seems happy, too. You knew that would be a good fit. After reading everything Mica had told you, there was no doubt in your mind that he could really benefit from having her with him. When you watch them, your own sadness of losing her is gone, filled with brightness and hope and love.

Those feelings, though, disappear the second you look away and you’re back to feeling sad and alone. So you keep your eyes locked on Spencer as long as you can, keep looking and keep these good feelings alive in you. 

Spencer looks up a few minutes later and smiles brightly at you. You smile back and make your way back to him. Reaching him, you turn to Tara and ask, “So do you like Spencer? If not, I can tell him to go and never come back.” Now would be the perfect time for Tara to reveal she knows how to talk and admits she hates Spencer and wants to stay here. No such luck.

Instead, she barks, her tongue sticking out. She’s happy; you can tell. You look at Spencer, smiling. “That means she does like you.” 

“I like her too,” Spencer replies as he smiles at you. It stays like this for a few minutes, you and Spencer looking at each other, smiling, Tara rolling around beneath you, begging for one of you to pet her.

“Anyway,” you say, shifting your eyes down as you realize just how long you have been staring at Spencer (the exact length being Too Long). “Did you have any questions or any concerns or anything you wanted to talk about?”

“Not exactly.” He pauses and then continues, “I’ve not had a dog for a really long time. There was a time when I was a kid when we did, but it didn’t work out. I’ve been reading a lot of books on the subject, but I was wondering if you’d be able to help me with getting supplies and food.” He pauses again, this time clearing his throat, his eyes looking down. “If it’s not too much trouble. I know that’s not your job.”

You follow Spencer’s eyeline and see him looking at Tara as you rub her belly. You look at him and say, “I doubt I’ll be able to give you more insight than all the books you read.” 

“That’s fine it was a stupid idea; I shouldn’t have asked.”

“You? A stupid thought? Never.” You grin, hoping Spencer will look up and see. “I’d do just about anything for this girl here. So if you think me coming along and helping you shop will actually help at all, I’m more than happy to join.”

Spencer looks up at this, his smile joining yours. “Thank you,” he says, his voice small as he stares at you. And once again, you’re stuck staring at him. Logically, you could look away from him no problem, but you find yourself staring at him still, even when he looks away, his eyes on Tara now as he pets her. You like watching Spencer. He’s soft and gentle, which seems to be in such contrast with his job, with what you expect FBI agents to be.

“I was thinking that it would be best if we take care of the shopping before I take her home,” Spencer comments.

“That’s good thinking there, Agent,” you reply, your mind still hung up on the idea that you’re sitting here, petting a dog with an FBI agent.

“It’s Doctor, actually,” he responds almost automatically, like a reflex. “Sorry. It doesn’t matter. You can call me whatever you want.”

“Doctor Spencer Reid,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him. It probably had said his degrees on his business card, but you hadn’t noticed much past his name, where he worked, and his number when you needed it. You scold yourself for not looking at it closer.

“Would you have time to go shopping tomorrow?” Spencer questions.

“Tomorrow…” you muse, trying to recall if you had any plans. Nothing comes to mind so you reply, “I think tomorrow works well for me.”

“Great. Do you have a number I can call you on?”

“Yeah, of course. Let me grab a pen so you can write it down.”

You shift your body to stand up, but before you can, Spencer says, “No need. Just say it. I’ll remember it.”

“You sure?” you question.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.”

“I wasn’t worried. Just thinking of how embarrassing it would be for you to say you’ll remember it only to forget my number anyway.”

“That would be embarrassing. Lucky for me, it won’t happen.” There’s so much lightness in his voice, light and sweet as he smiles wide.

“If you say so,” you say before giving him your number. 

“Cool I guess I should head out then,” Spence responds, standing up. You follow in his suit, standing up next to him.

“Yeah, I can’t wait to get home. It’s been a long day.”

“Sorry, I kept you late, didn’t I?” 

“Just a bit,” you reply, motioning towards the clock. It’s after six now. “It’s okay, though. As I said, I’d do anything for Tara. If it was any other dog, I would have kicked you out before you even stepped inside.”

Spencer chuckles. “Well I’m grateful that you didn’t.” You smile at each other as you reach the front counter. Spencer stops, watching you as you grab your things from under the counter. “I’m not trying to be intrusive, but you had mentioned to your coworker earlier about taking the metro. Did you, um… did you want a ride? I could give you a ride home. If you wanted.”

“Um,” you say, unsure of how to respond. On the one hand, no metro was a plus. But you didn’t know Spencer well. Agreeing to go shopping with him in the middle of the day was different than him driving you home at night, even with him being an FBI agent. It wasn’t as if all law enforcement agents were law abiding. 

“I promise I’m not that bad of a driver or anything. My coworkers don’t like me driving much, for some reason. But I’m really not that bad.”

“Yeah, that would be really nice,” you decide, too tired to deal with the metro. “I’m sure you're not a worse driver than me,” you add. “There’s a reason I still don’t have my licence. At least one of the reasons.”

“What’s another?” Spencer questions. 

“Oh wow. It’s just. I’m really scared of it.” You hope your voice is calm, chill, relaxed, despite your body tensing up.

“Ah okay. Sorry.” You give Spencer a small smile, grateful that he didn’t push it, grateful that he didn’t tell you there was nothing to be afraid of. 

“Give me just a second, I left something in the backroom. I’ll meet you outside in just a minute,” you say, turning and walking briskly towards the back. You go into the room and take deep breaths, over and over again, waiting for your hands to shake less than they are right now. It takes a few minutes, but soon you feel your heart rate steadying. 

You place a smile on your face before you leave the room, one as wide as you can make it, adding as much brightness in it as you can. You stop and pet Tara for a moment before walking outside. You lock up and make your way to Spencer’s car. The air is cold and sharp on your exposed skin.

The car is warm and you feel better as you step inside. “Sorry about that. Couldn’t find my phone charger. You'd think it would be plugged into the same outlet I always plug it in. But you'd have thought wrong.” 

It’s quiet for a moment before Spencer asks, “You all right?” You turn to face him and he’s looking at you so intensely that you’re sure he’ll be able to see through any lie you throw his way.

Still you say, “I’m wonderful,” and force another wide smile on your face. You want to be wonderful, at least. And there are parts of you that feel it, bits of you that feel good being here with Spencer. Parts of you can see the good things that are there around you that are happening and are real and… But right now, most of you is overclouded by everything else, the negative taking over you.

The drive is mostly silent outside of you telling Spencer your address. You watch him as he drives. You tend to watch everyone as they drive, making sure they’re watching the road, that their hands are always on the wheel. 

You want to say things. You want a conversation to grow between you two, the words natural, flowing between you two. Your mouth opens multiple times to say something, but nothing ever comes out until, “This is it,” you say when you reach your house.

Spencer pulls over, parking near your mailbox. “Thank you,” you say as unbuckle. You grab your bag off the floor before opening the door and stepping outside. You’re surprised to see Spencer doing the same. “You don’t have to…” you say, voice small.

“I want to,” Spencer responds. You smile, looking down. You walk up your driveway and reach your front door. 

“Thank you again. I hate taking the metro.”

“You’re welcome. It’s the least I could do to thank you for not kicking me out earlier.”

“True.” You smile before turning and unlocking your door. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” you say, facing Spencer again. 

“Goodnight,” he responds, waving before he walks off.

You watch as he walks off and as he reaches his car, you call out, “Hey Spencer?” He looks up at you and you continue, “You’re not that bad of a driver at all.” A sweet smile spreads across his face as he steps into his car. Watching him drive off, you notice a sweet smile has reached your face as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for stopping by and reading. The update took a little longer than I wanted, but it was almost 5k so I don't feel _too_ bad about it. The big moral of this whole chapter is if you're ever in Hawaii, you have to have poi glazed donuts. They're literally the reason food was made.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've written like this in _years_ but I'm really enjoying it and I hope you will, too. Thanks to [systematic_alchemy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/systematic_alchemy) for beta reading.   
>  Come bother me on [tumblr](http://snowyreid.tumblr.com/).


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